The hammer of unjustice!
by metallicanirvana
Summary: Bart has witness something that has changed his life, something so cruel that he becomes clinically depressed. Friends and family gave up hope for him but there is one friend that has always been by his side. Will she be able to help him? R&R please.
1. The claws of depression!

In the depths of my darkest memory, there she is, holding my hand in an attempt to relinquish this debility that had me pinned in the corner of my bed

In the depths of my darkest memory, there she is, holding my hand in an attempt to relinquish this debility that had me pinned in the corner of my bed. I live a life in shadows after…

"Bart, I know this is something you don't want to deal with but you have." She said, gently stroking my hand in a heavenly fashion.

"You don't know what it's like. I am reliving it every day, that one moment when my life changed." I was going to school, I thought it would be a normal day but it wasn't, it was a day that changed my life forever. Lisa had gone to school on the bus but I had been late because I was studying for an upcoming assessment on that very day.

"I don't know what you are going through Bart, I couldn't imagine to have something like that but how much longer are you going to dwell on the bad memories that have taken place in your life?"

"Dwell on the bad memories? If I could stop the memory from entering my mind I would, it's all that's ever in my mind." I say tightly gripping the pillow, it seems that even in the night this is all it is good for, it is a friend that I can talk too but just like all of them they can't help me.

"I'm sorry but I mean… it's been a month since…" She was right, it had been a month but how can someone get over something so painful in only a month? Something like this would take more than a lifetime to get over, there is no way you can heal mental scars that have been inflicted so deep.

"Bart… you got to move on. I know it sounds like a scary thing, in fact I must sound like an enemy when I say this but you can't let the bad things get you down in life." She says, trying to pull the sheets off of me, the warm blankets that are inviting but they can't help me either.

"How…How can you say that? She was killed… in front of my eyes." I return to letting my emotions spill out of me in tears, something I would have never done in the past. I was only 10 and I saw something so horrible, something so painful that no grown adult could deal with.

"I understand Bart, I'm going to have to go now… it's getting late, I have to be home by 11 but you got to take these." She gives me two Zopiclone and lithium; they can't help me with my problems because nothing can. Shove all the pills down my throat, all I can feel is the same things I felt before. The Zopiclone barely get me to sleep, no dreams of swimming in the ocean with the gentle dolphins or flying high above the reach of humanity, instead all I see in my sleep is darkness, something that imprisons me daily, something I have had enough of.

"Don't leave," She couldn't help me but I wanted her near me, I didn't want to be alone, if I was alone all I could thing about was what happened. When all alone all I feel is a hollow feeling in my heart, something that I can't fight no matter how hard I try.

"Ok sweetie," She said taking a seat; she had spent the day locked in with me, being restricted to living her life because of me. She was a good friend I have to admit, but she couldn't relate to me, no one could.

"How is therapy going?" She asks with a concerned tone.

"Well they are shoving these pills down me, supposable it's helping me but I feel the same, my psychiatrist is no help, she tells me what you tell me." She looks at me with a sad look. She didn't know what it was like for me to see that happen in front of my very own eyes.

"Why was it my mother that died?" I ask her as I return to crying, she holds me tightly and tells me to stop crying, it's hard to stop crying sometimes.

"God chooses very… harshly," Is all she could say and I have to admit she was right.

"_Bart, you have a good day in school today." My mother said as we are nearing Springfield Elementary._

"_Ok, I'm sorry that I had to make you drive me here. I mean if I had prepared for my assessment a little earlier than it would have been all sweet."_

"_Don't worry about it; tell Lisa I'm going to pick her up tonight after her hockey practise."_

"_Sure mum," I say as she gives me a warm smile._

"_Don't forget I love you Bart," That were her last words, a car struck us. The window shield totally smashed, in pieces that covered my mother's body. Her body was distant from her head and her flesh was dripping her in blood. _

"Bart…" She says, my tears damping my bed. I can't believe something so cruel took place in my life.

"Do you have an idea what it's like? I had to see it in front of my eyes, her last words were… Don't forget I love you Bart… almost as if she knew it was her time." I say, warm tears dripping down my chin and onto her shirt as she holds me tightly.

"Bart, I can't help you if you won't help yourself." That's what everyone has said but coming from her mouth it sounded so sinister, so life stealing something that I couldn't bare to hear.

"I'm sorry but… you need to start moving on, living each day as they come and slowly forgetting about that day…" She was right but it's so hard, all I want to do is lay within my bed, I'm not able to sleep and my soul is neither alive nor dead. My energy is drained, stolen from me just like my mother. Sometimes I question God, does he enjoy the sick jokes he plays on me? Why does he continue to torment me with his sick greed of sadistic pleasure?

"Jessica, I'm afraid you have to go home." I hear, she is forced to leave me as I am forced to swallow down sleep.

A/N: The death in this story is something that happened to a friend of mine, I did one of those… "Your mum is bitch" arguments and I never knew about it and he got really, really pissed. He told me about it and I thought he was lying, then some friends told me it was true. He goes to another school and I never knew about it but his mother had been decapitated. It's been a while since I have talked to him but this idea just kind of popped up in my head so here is the fic. R.I.P Matt's mum.


	2. The hospital walls imprison my hope

In his dark prison Bart awoke, not only is he trapped in a torment of his own personal hell but he is caged in this place like an animal

In his dark prison Bart awoke, not only is he trapped in a torment of his own personal hell but he is caged in this place like an animal. Bart gets up from his bed and starts walking towards the kitchen.

"Hello Bart, where are you going?"

"I just need a drink." Bart tells the old man.

"Please, allow me to get it. You may rest in your room." Bart obeys his commands and goes back to his room. The door had a little window so they could watch your every move. They know when you're sleeping, when you're peaking and when you want to strangle yourself to death. They are the makers of misery and they hide their flaws with pills and therapy. They try to change you with pills and lies.

"Here you go Bart, anything else."

"No… I'm fine."

"Well go back to sleep." Bart turned off the light as he drank down his water, the taste of the horrible medication that he was forced to take otherwise face lock up in a ward which was worst than prison. You are locked in and limited to watching T.V or sitting outside, they would be watching his every move with distorted glances, evil laughs and money hungry hands. When Bart awoke again it was near midday but time doesn't seem relevant anymore. Whether time has slowed down, sped up or stopped it wouldn't affect your time in hell. The days have passed by slowly but Bart had no idea of the date or time and was slowly starting to become nearly shell-shocked, a war with reality had left him perishing under what they said.

"Good to see you awake Bart." Jessica said walking into the room. Too her relief Bart looked a lot better today, he didn't seem as depressed or egoless and she knew that Bart would get better one day. He will be back to being the Bart she loved, her best friend that isn't pined to hospital walls. Everyone might have given up hope on Bart but she will be long dead before she does.

"Yeah… my shrink wants to see me?" She let out a little laugh, Bart had called him his shrink instead of physiatrist and he seems to be slowly return back to himself.

"Yeah, he came early around 10 am but you were asleep."

"When did you get here?"

"8 am, I have to spend every last minute with you… I want you too get better." Bart was so close to meeting his own demise before he was admitted here but luckily he had failed. He didn't want to think what would have happened to Jessica if he had succeed that day. He still coughed every day since that day.

_Jessica couldn't believe what she had heard. Bart's mum was dead, she had been involved in a fatal accident and lately Bart had been so silent, so depressed… He had never hid anything from her but she had to hear it from the dean to find out, no one spoke a word about it and no one talked to Bart, Jessica tried but he didn't respond._

"_Bart…Bart…" She looked around the house, he wasn't there no one was. She could hear an engine roaring in the garage but she didn't look there before and when she finally did it was a shock._

"_Bart!!" She pulled the hose out of the window, was he asleep or dead? She smashed the window and pulled Bart out, he had tried to kill him self with carbon monoxide poisoning by attaching a hose to the exhaust system of his mother's old car._

"Hey there Bart, you ready for therapy?" Lance Black, Bart's therapist, asked.

"Sure,"

"Do you mind if Jessica comes as well?"

"No…" Bart was happy that Jessica was allowed to come with him, he was forced to leave her behind every time he went into that dark room, revealing his mess of a life but now Jessica was going to be there.

"Ok, now I want to ask Jessica a few questions. The doctor's has labelled Bart as a manic depressive, I however believe he has just suffered from depression after a life altering event."

"Ok…" Jessica said awaiting the questions.

"Firstly has Bart ever not slept for a long period?"

"Well yeah sometimes."

"Fair enough, what does he usually do when he doesn't sleep and how long are we talking here?"

"Well this one time Bart didn't sleep for 3 days or so and he started to become… agitated. He wanted a cup of hot chocolate but we didn't have any… he decided to come over thinking that he might be able to sleep at my house… which he did… eventually"

"I see… does he ever talk very fast and have random thought patterns, he is speaking about something and then jumps to something else?"

"Uhh yeah but we have all done that. I mean he sometimes has a lot of insane ideas." She had meant that as cool ideas but the shrink didn't see it that way.

"Does he seem… really, really high sometimes when he doesn't take drugs?"

"Well once or twice he has been super high, one of those times he didn't get sleep and I heard you can get high after not sleeping for a while."

"Bart do you ever hear voices?" Bart had not expected that but he had a secret shame, one that he had never told anyone. He does hear voices at times.

"No sir, never!" Bart lies, not wanting them to know. There are some things that just stick in your throat and that is where they belong, Bart didn't need to tell them everything.

"Well, I'm sorry but I have to see other patients and your time is up."

"Ok, I'll take him… to the sitting room." Jessica grabbed Bart and took him to the sitting room. It had a T.V, some seats for those forced into this place and a pool table.

"Jessica, can I go in the music room?"

"I'll go get a nurse to open the door." Bart gave her a smile. This hospital offered schooling, music, T.V but it every moment Bart spent in there he felt trapped. This place only stimulates life it doesn't offer it. We are all prisoners of our own device, our own mind and that is something you can't escape.

"Bart, I got it opened." Bart ran into the music room. The one thing that made him happy now was playing the drums. Although he only knew how to play the guitar properly he was starting to get some rhythm with the drums. He had spent the last few weeks in the music room beating the misery out of him. His agitation, aggression and more than anything fear and depression drained out of his body when he smacked the drums as hard as he could.

"Bart, its time for medication." Jessica said, he had spent two hours hitting the drums and annoying the staff with the thumping that seemed to be good old fashion noise.

"Jessica… I don't want to take those,"

"Bart… I'm sorry but you have too."

"Those pills stick in my throat, the horrible taste plagues my food and it doesn't affect me at all. This drum set… this is the only medication I need." Jessica knew that was true but you had to follow rules; if he didn't take these then he would be sent to the other side.

"Bart, they got cameras every where if you don't take these then you will be sent to the other room." Bart takes it knowing she was right. This place was hell laced with fakes only eager to get their pay check. Doctors don't care what they shove down your throat as long as they get paid for it. Bart felt worst on the medication, were they purposely keeping him here?

A/N: This fic is some what semi-biographic, my time in a mental ward inspired this along with Matt's mother's death. I'm so glad we are both pass that part of our lives and left it behind in 2007. 2008 will hopefully be a lot better for us and of cause all of you.


End file.
